


Good Luck

by ohdearios



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Harry Dies, sorry - Freeform, well let me tell you one thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdearios/pseuds/ohdearios
Summary: Kreacher breaks in and reveals that Sirius is still at Grimmauld Place, and Harry never goes into the Ministry. Naturally, it seems as if all is well, but it's not. The Dark Lord is rising, and he is displeased that he didn't get his prophecy yet. OotP with alternate ending. ALSO LIKE ONE-THIRD OF THE FIC CONTAINS DIRECT QUOTES FROM THE BOOK. Rated T 'cause I'm paranoid.





	1. The Misconception

**Author's Note:**

> So, hello? This is the right place for notes, right? Anyway, right now I'm procrastinating and not doing my homework (yes! On a Friday! How scandalous!), and I'm reposting one of my stories onto THIS website. Yeah, on fanfic.net, I'm ellisss3377. ANYwho, I hope you enjoy my reposting, new crowd of potential readers!

~Chapter 1~

* * *

 

_So far in our novel, Harry Potter, our hero, has been getting visions from the Dark Lord himself, Lord Voldemort. Recently, he had seen Voldemort torturing his godfather, Sirius Black, for information about the light side of the war in his visions. His best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are unsure if the visions that Harry are receiving are real, so Harry has snuck into the tyrannical Headmistress's office to contact his godfather. Harry is now currently sticking his head into the fireplace of the Headmistress's office with the help of Floo powder to see if Sirius is at home._

* * *

 

**May 23, 1996**

**Hogwarts/ 12 Grimmauld Place**

"Sirius?" he shouted. "Sirius, are you there?" His voice echoed around the room, but there was no answer except a tiny scuffing sound to the right of the fire. "Who's there?" he called, wondering whether it was just a mouse. Kreacher the house-elf came creeping into view. He looked highly delighted about something, though he seemed to have recently sustained a nasty injury to both hands, which were heavily bandaged.

"It's the Potter boy's head in the fire," Kreacher informed the empty kitchen, stealing furtive, oddly triumphant glances at Harry. "What has he come for, Kreacher wonders?"

"Where's Sirius, Kreacher?" Harry demanded.

The house-elf gave a wheezy chuckle. "Master has gone out, Harry Potter."

"Liar." Kreacher looked astonished at Harry.

"Kreacher does not lie, Harry Potter, Kreacher-"

"Kreacher- just tell me. Is Sirius in Grimmauld Place or is he not? Is he with Buckbeak or not?"

Kreacher seemed to be sweating. "Kreacher knows no such thing..."

"MERLIN, KREACHER! WHERE IS HE?"

The house elf murmured something inaudible.

"What did you say?" Harry asked in a gentler voice.

"He's with the hippogriff."

"Thank you, Kreacher. Why didn't you tell me this before?" Harry asked in the gentlest voice he could manage.

"Kreacher does not usually take orders from half-bloods that are befriended with blood traitors and mudbloods." Kreacher smirked at his statement.

"You-!"

But before he could utter a single curse or insult, Harry felt a great pain at the top of his head. He inhaled a lot of ash and, choking, found himself being dragged backward through the flames until, with a horrible abruptness, he was staring up into the wide, pallid face of Professor Umbridge, who had dragged him backward out of the fire by the hair and was now bending his neck back as far as it would go as though she was going to slit his throat.

"You think," she whispered, bending Harry's neck back even farther, so that he was looking up at the ceiling above him, "that after two nifflers I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand," she barked at someone he could not see, and he felt a hand grope inside the chest pocket of his robes and remove the wand. "Hers too . . ."

Harry heard a scuffle over by the door and knew that Hermione had just had her wand wrested from her as well.

"I want to know why you are in my office," said Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching his hair so that he staggered.

"I was — trying to get my Firebolt!" Harry croaked.

"Liar." She shook his head again. "Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?"

"No one —" said Harry, trying to pull away from her. He felt several hairs part company with his scalp.

"Liar!" shouted Umbridge. She threw him from her, and he slammed into the desk. Now he could see Hermione pinioned against the wall by Millicent Bulstrode. Malfoy was leaning on the windowsill, smirking as he threw Harry's wand into the air one-handed and then caught it again.

There was a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna, and — to Harry's bewilderment — Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them had been gagged.

"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forward into the room. "That one." he poked a thick finger at Neville, "tried to stop me taking her," he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, "so I brought him along too."

"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Malfoy laughed loudly and sycophantically. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.

"So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron, and Malfoy laughed even louder, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so.

"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone..."

Malfoy and a few of the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad laughed some more at that. Harry found he was so full of rage and hatred he was shaking.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," he snarled.

Umbridge's slack face seemed to tighten. "Very well," she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Mr. Potter... I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco — fetch Professor Snape."

Malfoy stowed Harry's wand inside his robes and left the room smirking, but Harry hardly noticed. He needed to get out of the Toad's office. Now that he knew Sirius was safe with Buckbeak in number 12 Grimmauld Place; he was fine, and all he needed to do was get out of the office and out of detention. He didn't either want or need a whole new load of detentions!

There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resultant from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. Ron's lip was bleeding onto Umbridge's carpet as he struggled against Warrington's half nelson. Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had both her upper arms in a tight grip. Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face while tugging at Crabbe's arms, and Hermione was attempting vainly to throw Millicent Bulstrode off her. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.

Harry looked back at Umbridge, who was watching him closely. He kept his face deliberately smooth and blank as footsteps were heard in the corridor outside and Draco Malfoy came back into the room, holding open the door for Snape.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he said, observing her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

Umbridge flushed.

"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A _month_? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

His cold, dark eyes were boring into Harry's, who flinchingly, concentrated hard on signaling

Snape to get him out of the mess. Harry knew it was hopeless and worthless to even attempt to try, due to mutual hatred between the two. But he could try. Snape was a part of the Order.

"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back to her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling..."

Snape looked back at Harry, who stared at him, frantic to communicate without words.

_Get me out of here,_ he thought desperately. _Voldemort sent me a false vision, and I had a false ala-_

"You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. Harry knew his last chance of getting out of detention.

"He gave me a false alarm!" he shouted. "He made me believe Padfoot is at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.

"He? Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "Who is He? What is Padfoot? What alarm? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape looked around at Harry. His face was inscrutable. Harry could not tell whether he had understood or not, but he did not dare speak more plainly in front of Umbridge.

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."

He closed the door behind him with a snap, leaving Harry in a state of worse turmoil than before: Snape had been his very last hope. He looked at Umbridge, who seemed to be feeling the same way; her chest was heaving with rage and frustration.

"Very well," she said, and she pulled out her wand. "Very well... I am left with no alternative... This is more than a matter of school discipline... This is an issue of Ministry security... Yes... yes..."

She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm and breathing heavily. Harry felt horribly powerless without his own wand as he watched her.

"You are forcing me, Potter... I do not want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use... I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice..."

Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly.

"No!" shrieked Hermione. "Professor Umbridge — it's illegal" — but Umbridge took no notice. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face that Harry had never seen before. She raised her wand.

"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" cried Hermione.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, who was now panting slightly as she pointed her wand at different parts of Harry's body in turn, apparently trying to decide what would hurt the most. "He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same..."

"It was _you_?" gasped Harry. "You sent the dementors after me?"

" _Somebody_ had to act," breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow — discrediting you — but I was the one who actually did something about it... Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though, not now..."

And taking a deep breath, she cried, " _Cruc_ —"

"NO!" shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. "No — Harry — Harry, we'll have to tell her!"

"No way!" yelled Harry, staring at the little of Hermione he could see.

"We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's... what's the point... ?" And Hermione began to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.

"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Question-All is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"

"Er — my — nee — no!" shouted Ron through his gag.

Ginny was staring at Hermione as though she had never seen her before; Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her too. But Harry had just noticed something. Though Hermione was sobbing desperately into her hands, there was no trace of a tear.

"I'm — I'm sorry everyone," said Hermione. "But — I can't stand it —"

"That's right, that's right, girl!" said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. "Now then... with whom was Potter communicating just now?"

"Well," gulped Hermione into her hands, "well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore..."

Ron froze, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor's toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and her minions was focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice these suspicious signs.

"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"

"Well... no!" sobbed Hermione. "We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head —"

"Idiot girl, Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!" shouted Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face.

"But — but we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione, holding her hands more tightly over her face, not, Harry knew, out of anguish, but to disguise the continued absence of tears.

"Yes?" said Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"

"We... we wanted to tell him it's r-ready!" choked Hermione.

"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione's shoulders again and shook her slightly. "What's ready, girl?"

"The... the weapon," said Hermione.

"Weapon? Weapon?" said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"

"Y-y-yes," gasped Hermione. "But he had to leave before it was finished and n-n-now we've finished it for him, and we c-c-can't find him t-t-to tell him!"

"What kind of weapon is it?" said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.

"We don't r-r-really understand it," said Hermione, sniffing loudly. "We j-j-just did what P-P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-t-to do..."

Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.

"Lead me to the weapon," she said.

"I'm not showing... them," said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.

"It is not for you to set conditions," said Professor Umbridge harshly.

"Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again, "Fine... let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right — oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll be able to s-sort you out!"

These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge. She glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face.

Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment and then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly voice. "All right, dear, let's make it just you and me... and we'll take Potter too, shall we? Get up, now —"

"Professor," said Malfoy eagerly, "Professor Umbridge, I think some of the squad should come with you to look after —"

"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?" asked Umbridge sharply. "In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these" — she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna — "escape."

"All right," said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.

"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. "Lead on..."

 


	2. The Informing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... chapter 2! Ha... OH! I forgot to mention this before:  
> DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.

_~Chapter 2~_

* * *

 

_The previous chapter ended when Hermione and Harry trooped into the Forbidden Forest with Professor Umbridge on their trail. Hermione was leading Umbridge to the old Headmaster Dumbledore's so called "weapon" (which didn't exist). But instead of leading her Headmistress to the non-existent "weapon", Hermione talked so loud that she attracted a herd of not-so-merciful centaurs. Hermione and Harry would of also been taken away with Umbridge, if it weren't for Hagrid the half giant's full-giant brother, Grawp. He chased away the centaurs from Harry and Hermione. Currently, Harry and Hermione are in the heart of the forest._

* * *

 

**May 23, 1996**

**The Forbidden Forest**

The sounds of the galloping centaurs and the blundering giant were growing fainter and fainter. As Harry listened to them his scar gave another great throb and a wave of terror swept over him. Though he now knew that the visions weren't real, they still scared him. To see Sirius in pain...

But then, Harry and Hermione had worse problems to face than the faux visions. How would they get out of the forest? Hermione looked like she had no idea where she was, and Harry, frankly, felt lost. The worst thing was that neither of them had wands.

"Hermione?" Harry began to ask. "So you know where we are? Do you know how to get out?"

"Well," Hermione began. "Ron told me once about this trail. He told me that Hagrid took him through here for the forest detention both of you had in your first year, so I decided to go in that general direction."

"But, Hermione, do you know how we can get back up to the castle?"

"We need to get back up to the castle," said Hermione faintly. "I was so occupied with thinking about how to get into the forest, I forgot to think of a way out! Oh Merlin... let's try retracing our steps... that's always the best solution... Merlin..." Hermione started to frantically pace in circles.

"Well, then, it's a good thing that we know a way out," said a familiar voice from behind her.

Harry and Hermione moved instinctively together, peering through the trees, as Ron came into sight, with Ginny, Neville, and Luna hurrying along behind him. All of them looked a little the worse for wear — there were several long scratches running the length of Ginny's cheek, a large purple lump was swelling above Neville's right eye, Ron's lip was bleeding worse than ever — but all were looking rather pleased with themselves.

"So," said Ron, pushing aside a low-hanging branch and holding out Harry's wand, "what's going on? Is Sirius with You-Know-Who or not?"

"How did you get away?" asked Harry in amazement, taking his wand from Ron.

"Couple of Stunners, a Disarming Charm, Neville brought off a really nice little Impediment Jinx," said Ron airily, now handing back Hermione's wand too. "But Ginny was best, she got Malfoy— Bat Bogey Hex — it was superb, his whole face was covered in the great flapping things. Anyway, we saw you heading into the forest out of the window and followed. What've you done with Umbridge?"

"She got carried away," said Harry. "By a herd of centaurs."

"And they left you behind?" asked Ginny, looking astonished.

"No, they got chased off by Grawp," said Harry.

"Who's Grawp?" Luna asked interestedly.

"Hagrid's little brother," said Ron promptly. "Anyway, never mind that now. Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or — ?"

"No," said Harry, as his scar gave another painful prickle, "false alarm. Sirius is currently now in Grimmauld Place with Buckbeak. But I really don't understand how Voldemort can send out these false visions. How is he doing it?"

They all fell silent, looking rather scared at all the possibilities on how Voldemort got the visions of him torturing Sirius.

"Well, Hermione told you so, right? I mean, that Sirius wasn't actually being tortured by You-Know-Who? She told you so." said Luna in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact voice Harry had ever heard her use.

"Yes." Harry said sharply. The group fell silent once again.

"Well, Ron, you did say you knew a way out of the forest, right?" Hermione asked in a rather high-pitched voice. The tension in the air covered the six friends like a shroud.

"Yes, I did. Come on, let's go back to Hogwarts." Ron said, and started leading the friends out of the woods.

 


	3. Displeasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter... *drumroll please*... THREE!  
> I don't own Harry Potter

_~Chapter Three~_

* * *

 

**May 24, 1996**

**Riddle Manor**

"Avery! Please tell me why Harry Potter is not here?"

"I- I do not know, my Lord."

"Dolohov, can you answer my question?"

"N-no, my Lord."

"Lucius! You surely can tell me why the boy is not here?"

"I apologize, my Lord."

"No. Don't apologize, Lucius. Don't give me the answer 'no', Dolohov. And Avery, don't ever tell me you do not know. Answer me, and answer me properly!"

"My Lord..."

"Lucius, do not address me unless you have the answer to my question."

"My Lord..."

"Well, Lucius, do you have the answer?"

"No..."

"Well, I told you not to address me unless you have the answer! _Crucio_!"

* * *

 

**May 24, 1996**

**Hogwarts**

Harry woke up to the feeling of white-hot pain, which was oh-so-conveniently channeled into his lightning scar. But he didn't make any fuss of the vision he had just experienced. For all he knew, it could be fake.

It was one week before the end of the term, and things were normal (well, the closest to normal)again. Umbridge was gone, exams were over, and everyone he knew and loved were safe and sound. He could finally enjoy his last seven days at Hogwarts in peace before he had to go back to the Dursleys. He was also getting less visions, all of them of an angry Voldemort torturing his followers in fits of anger. But Harry could still relax since for all he knew, they could all be superficial.

All was well.

* * *

 

But, at the same time, all was not well. Lord Voldemort was still planning on getting what he wanted and was tremendously displeased that he didn't get it the night before. The Dark Lord was rising once again, and he was not pleased.


	4. The Kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter... *looks down at cards* FOUR!  
> I do not absolutely own Harry Potter. Nope. Nuh-uh. Nooo.

_~Chapter 4~_

* * *

 

**June 11, 1996**

**Riddle Manor**

"Lucius, do you have the boy?" the Dark Lord's blood-red eyes scanned over the body-sized bag the Malfoy held half in his hands, half on the floor.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Take him out of the bag, then! I don't want him to suffocate," Voldemort said, gesturing at Lucius to open the bag. The eldest Malfoy then opened the bag and shook it out, which spit out no one other than the famous Boy-Who-Lived.

"I found him half-asleep under a windowsill, then stupefied him and brought him here, my Lord" Lucius informed Voldemort.

"Good, good. Did he see you?"

"No, my Lord."

"Good. Well, wake him up. I need him weakened before I cast the imperius on him. He's a fighter, that one." Voldemort stated, signaling Lucius with his eyes to wake Harry up.

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius's hands trembled as he said the counter-spell. " _Finite_."

"Wuzzigoin?" Harry woke up with a start. He looked groggily up to Voldemort, then said; "Wha... Voldemort? Wait- VOLDEMORT?" he jumped up and started to frantically search his pockets for his wand.

"Looking for this, Potter?" Harry spun around to find Lucius twirling his wand between his fingers. Harry started to lunge towards at Lucius, but Lucius apparated away before Harry could lay a finger on him.

"Ah ah ah, Potter. Play nice. Or else I might just... break your wand." an insane smile crept up the blond Malfoy's face. But Harry didn't stop trying to attack him. "Fine, Potter, have it your way." He snapped Harry's wand in half. That made Harry stop for a moment.

"My wand... MY WAND!" Harry roared. He looked angrier than a raging bull. "YOU BROKE MY WAND!"

"Yes, I did, Potter. Problem?" Lucius smiled gleefully at Harry.

"Now, now, Lucius. Let me have some fun too," Voldemort added in. Harry whirled around with a scared look on his face.

"No..."

"Yes. _Crucio_!" Voldemort pointed his wand exuberantly at Harry as Harry withered on the floor.

When Voldemort lifted the curse, Harry looked up at him and spat:

"You'll never get me, Voldemort. You can't control me. You can't hurt me. Heck, you can't even kill me! The Order'll come for me any second now, and you'll be done for good!"

"No, no, no! Potter, you've got it all wrong," Lucius intervened. "The Order's not coming for you, silly boy. That filthy street merchant Mundungus Fletcher was on watch tonight, but he got... distracted by a deal he just could not miss. He apparated away, and you were just laying there, simply ready to be whisked away. Oh dear. Are you feeling the déjà vu too, or is it just me?" The insane smile crept back up Lucius's face.

"Mrs. Figg! She'll tell Dumbledore!" Harry cried out desperately.

"I disposed her months ago. She's an inferi now," Voldemort drawled in an aristocratic tone.

"Oh." Harry seemed as if he had lost all of his hope.

"So, Potter, please tell me, where's the Order now? They're certainly not here to save you, so, where are they? Please do tell me." Voldemort asked Harry with a hungry glint in his eye.

"I'll tell you when hell freezes over!"

"Well then, Potter, I'll tie up my ice skates. _Crucio_!" The torturing session went on for a few minutes. Every time Voldemort cut off the curse and Harry thought it was over, Voldemort hit Harry again with an even stronger curse. It weakened Harry immensely. Fifteen torturous minutes later, Voldemort asked Lucius: "Lucius, do you think Potter is weak enough?"

"I do not know, my Lord."

"Well, let's see if he can resist the imperius now. _Imperio_." Harry's eyes suddenly glazed over, and his face went slack. " _Get up_ ," Harry got up. " _Identify yourself_."

"I am Harry James Potter." Harry said in a monotonous voice.

"Good, good. _Bow down to me_." He bowed. " _Kiss my robes_." Harry slowly bent down and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. " _Stupefy_." Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his body went limp. "I think he's weak enough."


	5. The Savior is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I'll also post the sequel on this website. Maybe. I don't know.  
> Not JK Rowling!

_~Chapter 5~_

* * *

 

**June 11, 1996**

**The Department of Mysteries, The Ministry of Magic**

"Lucius, what door do we need to go through?" Voldemort asked. He, Lucius, and Harry (who was still unconscious) were standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here was black including the floor and ceiling — identical, unmarked, handle-less black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue, their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor so that it looked as though there was dark water underfoot.

"This one, my Lord." Lucius pointed at the door in front of them, and opened the door.

"Well done, Lucius." In the room behind the door, there were clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the dancing, diamond-bright light was a towering crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room.

The trio trooped (floated by a levitation spell in Harry's case) through the room and past the bell jar and opened yet another door. They had arrived at their destination: high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty, glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold.

"My Lord, we need to go to row number 97," Lucius said.

"Yes, then I'll wake up the boy and set him under the imperius," Voldemort replied. "Good, good." Beneath the branch of blue-glowing candles protruding from it glimmered the silver figure 53.

The trio trooped (and floated) on through the rows while Lucius muttered out the row numbers. "Ninety-four... ninety-five... ninety-six... ninety-seven! We have arrived, my Lord."

"Yes, Lucius. Now we must go to the end of the row to get the prophecy. And... here we are. 'S.P. T. to A. P. W. B. D.; Dark Lord and Harry Potter.' Wake up the boy," Voldemort ordered Lucius.

After Lucius muttered the counter-spell ( _finite_ ), Voldemort placed Harry under the imperius once again.

" _Take the prophecy off its stand_." Harry obeyed. " _Give it to me_." He slowly handed the older wizard the orb. "Well done, Potter. Well done." Voldemort patted Harry on his head as if he was a dog.

"Lucius, put on your costume and bring me the Minister. Maybe that Rita Skeeter woman, too. The wizarding world needs to know about poor Mister Potter's death _somehow_ , don't they?"

* * *

 

**June 11, 1996**

**The Atrium, The Ministry of Magic**

"You are probably wondering why I have brought you here, and how I am alive. Well," Voldemort chuckled, "I can only tell you the answer to the first question. The second one is highly confidential. Well, I have brought you two," he looked at the two body-binded and _silencioed_ Cornelius Fudge and Rita Skeeter in the eye, "to witness the death of Harry Potter." Rita's eye's widened with anticipation as Fudge's eyes filled with dread. " _Potter, come in_."

The imperiused Harry walked into the Atrium and faced the audience of two.

"This," Voldemort began, "is the mark of of the beginning of the second war. React wisely. _Avada_ _Kedavra_!" Harry fell over and didn't move once more. "Harry Potter is dead, and no one can beat me ever again!" Then, to satisfy his thirst of finally destroying the Boy-Who-Lived, Voldemort set fiendfyre upon Harry and watched how the boy went up in flames. "Good luck, Fudge. Have fun writing the article, Skeeter." Voldemort left with a crack and left Fudge and Rita to their own devices.

_Good luck._

 


End file.
